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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23333233">A Kiss of Light</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDLynn/pseuds/HDLynn'>HDLynn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Woodmere Estate Series [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prospect (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1930s AU, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gothic Romance Inspired, One-Shot, Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:28:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,810</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23333233</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDLynn/pseuds/HDLynn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When the reader takes a position as an art teacher for a new student she doesn't expect the magnetic pull of attraction for her one-armed employer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cee &amp; Ezra (Prospect 2018), Ezra (Prospect)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Woodmere Estate Series [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Kiss of Light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When I received the letter from my aunt that she had found a position for me as a teacher of the arts at the estate where she was employed, I jumped at the chance. I’d been dismissed from my last position with no references and thus needed a job, any job to get me out of my mother’s house with her pontificating about morality or decorum.</p>
<p>I had been teaching art to wealthy children in the comfort of their beautifully appointed homes since I had graduated from the art institute. So that was… already almost ten years now? Lord, I was becoming the old maid my mother said I was, not that I’d ever outwardly agree with her.</p>
<p>My aunt’s employer, a Mr. Carstone, had a teenage daughter he wanted to procure an art teacher for. The position, if it suited all parties, would last for the entirety of the summer with the possibility of continuing into the normal school session. I might have no references, but I did have the education.</p>
<p>Working for an upper-class family, who shall remain unnamed to protect the guilty, in the New York City society set had become too glamorous for my blood. That cold-blooded family had taught me a valuable lesson: don’t get involved with the rich types outside of a professional manner. They will chew you up and spit you out.</p>
<p>These were the thoughts I was musing over as the taxi pulled into the gated driveway and reached the address my aunt had sent me.</p>
<p>Woodmere was a stately home, set away from the rest of the town by a long drive with ancient Southern Live Oak trees covered in hanging mosses on both sides. The building itself was not the classic southern plantation home. Instead, it oddly looked like it had been stolen away from the Scottish moors. It was all pristine stonework, lead-lined windows, and had scented jasmine climbing up the side of the building that had the servant’s entrance. The heady scent filled my head as I got out of the taxi.</p>
<p>My heels sunk slightly into the gravel drive as I got my two suitcases out of the trunk. The taxi driver lit up a smoke and took a gander at the parked black and tan Bugatti. Apparently, the cost of the ride had not been enough for him to act like a gentleman, and I let my frosty politeness speak volumes.</p>
<p>After getting paid, he pulled away and I anxiously smoothed my grey traveling skirt. I was looking at the quickly darkening sky absentmindedly as my aunt burst out of the doorway.</p>
<p>“Oh, thank God!” she exclaimed, pulling me into an embrace and kissed my cheek like she did when I was a little girl. “I thought you wouldn’t make it to the house before the storm!”</p>
<p>“Well, I’m here, Auntie Eddie,” I said, giving her soft wrinkly cheek a kiss in return. Her name was Edna, but I always had called her Eddie. “Does this joint always look like Mr. Rochester is going to be roaming the grounds?”</p>
<p>Auntie Eddie shushed me, her hands flailing in dismay. “Darling, don’t be rude! Just wait till you see the place all lit up in the summer glow. It don’t look nothing like the dismal novels you were always reading as a teenager. A bunch of rot those were. And I am Mrs. Tiley in this household. Even if you’re my niece that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you call me ‘Eddie’. I’ll never get the kitchen staff back in order if they hear that.”</p>
<p>Big fat warm raindrops chased our heels as she rushed me into the house after I promised to call her “Mrs. Tinley”. I made sure to carry my luggage on my own. I only had two bags to my name, one filled with clothing and essentials, the other was filled with the tools of my trade. Both of them were too heavy, in my opinion, for Auntie to carry. They would be my burden alone.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>My new employer, most unfortunately, was a devilishly attractive man. His hair, while curlier and longer than what was en vogue, was carefully coifed with pomade into a style not unlike what Clark Gable or Cary Grant wore in the movies. He also had this wonderfully peculiar patch of hair that was so blond it almost appeared white against the rest of his dark hair. Tanned skin, a roguish half-moon scar on his cheek, a warm smile, and dark brown eyes, Mr. Carstone was a type all his own. He moved with confidence that edged close to cockiness, but he was too charismatic and confusingly wordy to be anything except charming. The fact that he was missing part of his right arm, the empty fabric sleeve pinned back up to be out of his way, was just a part of him, somehow immediately normal.</p>
<p>He had warmly welcomed me to Woodmere and introduced me to his daughter, Cee.</p>
<p>She was as pale as moonlight and had lovely blonde hair, looking nothing like Mr. Carstone. But then I remembered my aunt mentioning in some of her correspondence that Cee had been adopted. Perhaps Mr. Carstone had married her mother and was her stepfather? Not something I was about to pry about, but I knew there was no current Mrs. Carstone. Again, Aunt Eddie was a font of knowledge on the current affairs of her employer.</p>
<p>Mr. Carstone was not like the society set I was used to, immediately inviting me to eat dinner with the family. My aunt had sniffed at that, but I knew she was not about to speak out about it to the man in charge of her paycheques. He then started giving me a tour of his home himself. We only got as far as the main entryway before the butler put a stop to that.</p>
<p>“Mr. Carstone, pardon my intrusion. Your appointment is waiting for you in your office.” George interrupted, his face impassive and yet somehow disapproving. Ever the stoic butler type this one was.</p>
<p>“Of course, Georgie.” Mr. Carstone said, before turning back to me.</p>
<p><br/>
“You must forgive an old man,” He said, causing me to slightly raise an eyebrow. The man couldn’t be more than eight or ten years older than me.<br/>
“This business, grievously tiresome as it is, cannot be postponed. Please do forgive me.”</p>
<p>“Of course, Mr. Carstone.”</p>
<p>“Darling girl, do call me Ezra. I abhor such formalities as ‘Mr. Carstone’,” Ezra said as he loped up the marble stairway, his tailored pants showing his long lean legs to good advantage.</p>
<p>I could see the butler’s eyes grow wide as he overheard our employer’s request. He’d probably have a fit of apoplexy if I, the hired art teacher, dared to cross that social mor. But I couldn’t say no to my employer outright, that was also frowned upon.</p>
<p>Smiling politely, I gently rebuffed him.</p>
<p>“My apologies, Mr. Carstone. You’ll have to ask me at least one more time before I could think to do so.”</p>
<p>Mr. Carstone paused on the stairs to look down at me, a grin forming on his face, while the butler died at my cheek.</p>
<p>“Of course, Dovey.” And with that, he was gone.</p>
<p>Dinner was an interesting affair. The butler glared at everyone the entire time, completely furious but too well trained to actually say anything. Ezra — no Mr. Carstone I reminded myself — ignored the man glowering at us all as he distributed the soup course.</p>
<p>I reminded myself I didn’t need to be developing feelings for anyone in the family on Day One of employment, that had been why I had lost my last position. I might be rather stupid, but I could learn from past experiences. Hopefully.</p>
<p>The next morning, I was called into Mr. Carstone’s office with some trepidation.</p>
<p><br/>
“I have been informed by Georgie that I have been remiss in not inquiring about your credentials before letting you school my charge. I seem to have your educational background but not your references,” Ezra said, and my heart dropped. I should have known that butler would put a fly in Mr. Carstone’s ear about that.</p>
<p>“I was let go from my previous employer without reference,” I answered honestly. There was no point in lying, it would only make the dismissal worse.</p>
<p><br/>
“Why ever would they do you such an unkindness, Dovey?” Ezra asked, his nickname for me causing my chest to flutter, even as I was sure I was about to be condemned even if he did so kindly. Mr. Carstone clearly cherished his daughter and would surely not want me to stick around.</p>
<p>“I was…found in a compromising situation with their eldest son,” I said. It was not like I had been involved with a child, though. The son in question was from the first wife and my own age.</p>
<p>“Does it cause you some amount of contriteness, Dovey?” Ezra asked, his gaze was fixed inscrutably on me.</p>
<p>“I only regret being involved with a man who did not care for me, Mr. Carstone.” I said, daring him to judge me like so many others had.</p>
<p>“A fair assessment by my reckoning, though he sounds more a boy than a man. I like to conclude that a miscalculation in life is just an opportunity to learn how to ameliorate one’s self,’” Ezra said, as he went back to his papers, his left hand showing practiced ease in turning the pages without the use of its missing twin.</p>
<p>That was it? I blinked at my employer, I had already convinced myself that I would be out the door the moment anyone found out I was a so-called “compromised woman”. To have him so easily and wholly accept it, me, and see it as no large issue, that struck at me hard.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Teaching Cee the next few days came naturally. She was not always the most verbal of students, but she was attentive and picked up everything quickly. Really, I felt I was mainly showing her how to use different medias such as India ink, watercolors, and oil paints. She already had an eye for detail and color naturally.</p>
<p>We were making use of a nice sunny day to do some plain air drawing. Mr. Carstone came upon us on the patio overlooking the garden in the back. Both of us ladies were being shaded by big straw hats as we both worked on different perspectives of the landscaping before us in charcoal. Messy but rewarding in the ability to have a variety of dark and light tones.</p>
<p>“Dare I offer up the use of my own scraggly miner’s profile for you and Dovey to make a practice of?” Ezra joked at his own expense, looking at me even as he spoke to Cee.</p>
<p>I let myself look as if I was pondering quite hard over the matter. The matter being his face. I did, very much, find him handsome, but I was not going to say it that way. It would be inappropriate.</p>
<p>“Well, Mr. Carstone, you do have a rather arresting profile, I’m sure Cee and I could try to make sense of it.”</p>
<p>He grinned and arranged himself in a chair on the patio, and we all sat for a bit in a slightly odd silence. Not a bad silence, just…odd. As if Ezra was examining me and Cee as closely as we were looking over the details of his face.</p>
<p>Every time I looked up his gaze held mine so magnetically I couldn’t remember if I had been needing to double-check the curve of his nose or how he had those dimples in the cheeks when he smirked like that.</p>
<p>“Pa, you need to stop grinning like an idiot,” Cee said, with a tired huff, breaking the moment. “I can’t seriously draw you looking like that.”</p>
<p>I looked down, blushing slightly at the drawing before me and made a small correction to the angle of his jawline, thankful for the large straw hat to cover my red cheeks.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>One warm night, a week or so after the afternoon on the patio, I found myself in Ezra’s office having a nightcap with my employer. Cee had already retired some time ago, but neither us adults were tired yet.</p>
<p>We had been chatting about various things, yet nothing at all, before falling into a comfortable silence for a moment.</p>
<p>“Cee loathes that painting,” Ezra stated suddenly. He pointed with the hand he still holding his whiskey glass to the painting set above the fireplace. It was nondescript to my eyes, a mountainous landscape scene of a crumbly white granite peak, with a blue sky and some fir trees in the foreground.</p>
<p>He must have seen my confusion.</p>
<p>“That is Mt. Antero, where Birdy and I found our fortune in aquamarine.” He showed me the raw blue gem set into his gold cuff link on his left arm. “It is where my most trusty tool also remains,” he said with a rueful snort, referring to his missing right arm.</p>
<p>I didn’t know what to say to that. I had never asked what happened to Ezra’s arm and yet here he was offering up the information freely to me.</p>
<p>“My daughter, Cee, she adopted this old man after the events on that mountain for reasons I still cannot effectively discern.” He was now looking into the empty fireplace after setting his glass down. He was subconsciously rubbing at the fold of his tailored jacket where his right arm used to continue. I wondered if the stump ached when he thought of the past.</p>
<p>Ezra made an effort to pull himself back from whatever memories he had found himself quagmired in and looked back at me with a grin.</p>
<p>“She chose to call me ‘Pa’ of her own accord,” he said, in awe of the word. “Such a simple thing but it nearly killed a man when my esteemed Birdy asked if that was all right. It would’ve never been a title I aspired to force or even cajole her to use.”</p>
<p>“Cee is a wonderful and loving young lady.” I agreed, and Ezra looked at me. He seemed under a cloak of sorrow, his blond patch the solitary star in the expanse of his darkness.</p>
<p>“She is indeed, she is indeed.” Ezra agreed quietly before he put on a more light tone. “Well, Dovey, I best let you retire for the evening. At least one of us has to work tomorrow.”</p>
<p>He winked at me. Normally, that might have made me blush, but all I could see was the sadness and some other emotion I could not identify hiding behind that mask. It broke my heart to see him that way. All I could do was say goodnight and leave him alone in his large empty office.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>As the weeks stretched on, I became aware of a very glaring issue with my continued use in this household. Namely, my pupil Cee was an excellent and very talented student. So much so, I didn’t see her needing my help for much longer, and once I have taught all I could…why would I be kept on? I couldn’t hold her back if she wanted to continue her education, be it with the fine arts or her writings. But…I also did not want to leave Woodmere. I loved my daily time spent with Cee. I loved the house. And I treasured the time I spend with Ezra.</p>
<p>I had fallen for him, within the first few days I had been at Woodmere. It was the way he spoke to me and listened to me. The way he looked at me, I’d noticed those looks and they made my body go hot with want. But I couldn’t hold Cee back to feed my infatuation with her father. I was not so selfish to do that, even if I had thought of it. I wasn’t perfect after all and Ezra Carstone was a temptation in the form of a man.</p>
<p>However, that meant actually talking to Ezra, about the fact that Cee would need a new teacher, namely not me. I found him lounging on one of the window seats he liked to haunt with a book and a sweet tea when the day was warm enough for it. I almost turned back. The way the light hit the planes of his face, the concentration he had over the words in front of him, the damnable horned-rimmed glasses he needed to wear while reading. It about made my heart clench in my chest.</p>
<p>“Mr. Carstone?” I said to get his attention from his book. I was sorry to disturb Ezra from the beautiful tableau he had become a part of.</p>
<p>“Dovey, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Ezra?” He looked up at me from his book and then stood, taking off his glasses and sliding them into his breast pocket. I had noticed a while back that he didn’t remain seated when I was around unless I was also seated. It was not necessary since I was the help, but I secretly enjoyed the social flattery.</p>
<p>“At least one more time, Mr. Carstone,” I answered automatically, unable to help the smile that played across my lips. “I need to talk to you about Cee.”</p>
<p>“Don’t tell me she is giving you disconcertment in your teaching endeavors, Dovey?” he asked, growing concerned. “That doesn’t sound like our Birdy.”</p>
<p>“Oh, no, no!” I rushed to reassure him. “Cee is a wonderful student, she is amazingly quick to pick up everything I have to teach her. It is just that she is quickly surpassing my capabilities as a teacher. She really needs someone with more experience than me. Honestly, she could probably get into any art school or institute she would like to attend with just her natural eye and talent. She certainly needs more tutelage than I can give her.”</p>
<p>I swallowed, the next words thick on my tongue.</p>
<p>“I can provide some suggestions for a new teacher, I still have connections with my alma mater in Philadelphia. Any one of them would love to work with a student of her caliber.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Ezra said, his face suddenly blank. The teasing camaraderie from moments before had fled us. “Yes, of course. If Cee wishes it, I would be most agreeable to hiring a new teacher for her. Thank you for your candor,” and, with that, he went back to his book.</p>
<p>My presence was obviously no longer wanted, so I left him to be alone. It stung. Ezra had never really treated me like…like the help before. I should have been used to it, but I wasn’t. Not from him.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Later that day Cee had mentioned wanting to work in a more impressionistic manner for our next few lessons. I knew I had seen a lovely bound book of photos with works by Monet and other such French artists, I just was currently unable to find it in the massive library. I had never had a great mind for the Dewey decimal system. I, being an art student, had become stubbornly abhorrent of numbers and refused to learn it. So, I was currently kneeling down to look over some particularly thick volumes in one of the alcoves the shelves had created. I was going to ignore the complicated tangle of emotions roiling in my belly and do my job until the last day I was at Woodmere. We were going to paint in the conservatory today since the weather outside had turned foul. The wind shaking the branches of the ancient oaks while rain lashed against the windows.</p>
<p>I almost jumped out of my knickers when the door to the library slammed open and then closed again. The force of the movement causing some of the glass wall sconces to rattle. I jumped to my feet, any sound I might have made muffled by the plush carpeting, and went to look at what was amiss. Surely something was wrong, no one in the family or staff was so careless with the house as to be slamming doors.</p>
<p>The sight that greeted me in the main space of the library gave me pause, so I stood still partly in the cover of the bookcase.</p>
<p>My employer was currently pacing the library, extremely agitated. I shouldn’t be here watching him, this was a private moment. I was about to announce my presence and try to leave when he growled and started to rip at the buttons of his clothing with his one hand.</p>
<p>He flung off the tweed jacket and then the vest, buttons flying from the garments in his haste. Next came the tie, the singular blue and gold cuff link on his left sleeve pinged off the marble fireplace. He sat down to tear the shoes from his feet with veracity I had not seen from Mr. Carstone before. He threw the shoes, as well, one landing behind his desk. I did not see where the other ended up. Then, he flung himself flat on his face and, for good measure, ran his hand through his hair, ruining it beyond easy repair. The blond patch stuck out at a harsh angle from the rest of the mess.</p>
<p>Ezra’s muffled panting filled the room as I continued to stare, round-eyed with shock. After a beat, I knew I didn’t want to be caught watching him in such a moment, it was so viscerally intimate and raw. I didn’t have the right to be here.</p>
<p>If I could get to the door, I could sneak out, right? The carpet would muffle my steps and the door opened silently when normally used. George the butler would not stand for squeaky doors in the house.</p>
<p>I started to creep around the edge of the room. I was so close yet so far from the door, I only had to go a few more steps and I would be able to reach the brass handle.</p>
<p>“Dovey?” Ezra’s voice came to me from where he lay on the carpet still, his drawl softening how raw he sounded. I flinched, I must have made more noise than I had thought.</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude, I’ll just go,” I rushed to say, again going to open the door.</p>
<p>“No!”</p>
<p>I stopped and stared at him. I must have looked like a frightened hare caught in the headlights of a car.</p>
<p>“You…you only meant the library, didn’t you, Dovey.” Ezra said with a heavy sigh as he got up from the carpet and leaned against the mahogany desk. “I thought you meant…never mind.”</p>
<p>“Do you want me to stay in the library, Mr. Carstone?” I asked confused, daring to take a few steps closer now that he had calmed down.</p>
<p>“What I want?” He asked with a horrified look on his face, the lines in his forehead and the one between his eyebrows furrowing deep. “I want so much, <em>too much</em>. I can’t even make sense of it with words.”</p>
<p>“Do you want me to go get a cup of tea from the kitchen, Mr. Carstone?” I asked. The man was distraught.</p>
<p>“Please, please, dear Dovey. Can you not call me Ezra?” His voice was hoarse with emotion, and he seemed unable to move from his perch on the desk, looking like a broken man.</p>
<p>I was crying, why was I crying? When had I moved to be so close to Ezra? So close that I could almost feel the warmth of his body through my dress.</p>
<p>“Darling girl, please don’t weep.” He pleaded, bringing up his left hand to brush the tears away from my cheek. That touch, his rough work-earned calloused fingers that were so gentle and reverent in their care, shattered my walls. I was like an egg that had been broken and everything was flooding out at once.</p>
<p>“Ezra,” I croaked as I flung myself into his embrace. I was unable to stop crying and just sobbed against his warm solid chest. He cradled the back of my head with his hand and pressing gentle kisses into my hair until I was able to calm myself.</p>
<p>Ezra’s hand moved from the back of my head to cradle my cheek instead. In his dark brown eyes, I saw it now, the love I had been so afraid of seeing but craved so deeply.</p>
<p>“I would never undertake plans to keep you here against your expressed subscription to the idea, Dovey.” he said, his eyes pained and serious. “I am not a good man, but I cannot help it that you already have me entirely in the palms of your ink and paint-stained hands.”</p>
<p>“Ezra, you are a good man.” I insisted. “I see how you are with Cee, I see how you care and adore her. I see how you treat others, how you have treated me.”</p>
<p><br/>
“Darling girl,” he sighed. “I did…so much evil before you. Hell, before I knew Cee as my daughter.”</p>
<p>His eyes grew distant and I knew he was thinking about the past again.</p>
<p><br/>
“Dovey, I’m the reason Cee doesn’t have her birth father,” he confessed. “And I’m ashamed to say I wouldn’t change my choices if I had the opportunity to adapt what is now history. I am a selfish creature through and through. For otherwise, I wouldn’t have my Birdy…I wouldn’t have met you.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure it was an accident,” I said before he cut me off, his tone more sorrowful then harsh.</p>
<p>“It wasn’t, my dearest. I shot Cee’s father. The mountain’s tumultuous nature surely did make for many accidents but that was not one of them. He tried to steal from me and I killed him for it. My actions almost cost Cee’s life, as well, so I more than deserved her ire,” he said with almost a chuckle as he tilted his head to his stump of a right arm.</p>
<p>I was silent for a moment, it was a lot to process. Ezra was a killer and Cee was somehow involved with his right arm being gone. But I only knew the man I had seen the past few months. The two pictures did and yet did not slot together, he had changed even if he did not see it.</p>
<p>Ezra jumped slightly as I placed a gentle hand above where his stump ended.</p>
<p>“You are a good man, Ezra. Goodness is not a trait, it is the choices you make every single day. I see a man who made bad choices in the past and is trying to do better, to do right by Cee. To not be the man you were. I can’t imagine the situations you were put through, but I’m also a selfish creature and I’m glad it all led you to me.”</p>
<p>I then made the most rational and simultaneously most irrational decision of my adult life. I wrapped my arms around Ezra’s neck and kissed him. He didn’t even hesitate in kissing me back, his arm going around my waist to pull me in tighter against him.</p>
<p>But then he pulled away slightly.</p>
<p>“Gods, Dovey, I am but a humble miner and sinner who wishes to worship in the glow of your star. What would you have of me? I would give you whatever you want, even if it was to leave.” Ezra whispered. He was scared but I knew he meant it. If I wanted out he would let me go.</p>
<p>“I want you, Ezra,” I answered.</p>
<p>Ezra growled and flipped us so that I was now the one against the desk. His legs caged mine as he lifted me onto it with just the use of his one arm. He might have lost his main “tool” as he often referred to his right arm, but the man was still dexterous and strong. He made me feel protected, cherished, wanted.</p>
<p>I held his face in my hands and pressed sloppy kisses to the silver scar on his cheek, his nose, those blasted dimples. I could explore Ezra as much as I wanted to now and it thrilled me.</p>
<p>Ezra’s left hand moved to firmly squeeze at the juncture where my waist and hip connected, causing me to gasp into his mouth. He took the opportunity to plunder my own, dragging out all sorts of moans and whimpers from me. I imagined he would do everything with me just as thoroughly and it made my body go hot all over with need for him.</p>
<p>I heaved in a breath as the grandfather clock in the corner started to chime the hour. It was two in the afternoon, I had something important at two in the afternoon. I continued to kiss Ezra and let him guide my legs to circle around his waist. I hooked my ankles together behind his back and bucked my hips into his. This time it was me pulling a whimper of need from his lips, it made me feel powerful. I could wreck him with want like he would wreck me.</p>
<p>Ezra trailed his hand over my stocking-covered leg and started to fiddle with the garter that was keeping everything in place as I continued to ponder what I was supposed to be doing. Obviously, being in Ezra’s arms is felt like what I was supposed to be doing right now, but I had been looking for something…a book.</p>
<p>Oh, <em>oh god</em>. I was supposed to meet with Cee in the conservatory to paint the water lilies at two!</p>
<p>“Ezzraaa,” I gasped raggedly as he moved to nibble a line of fire along my jawline, his mustache emphasizing every movement he made with his devilish mouth. He must have thought me calling his name was just more encouragement for he seemed to double his efforts.</p>
<p>“Ezra!” I cried out as I gently pushed his face away from my neck, as hard as that was to do. I very badly wanted him to keep going.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong, darling?” he asked, his voice drawling even more than usual. His eyes dark with desire like mine surely were.</p>
<p>“I’m late for Cee’s lesson, I was looking for the reference book when you came in. I don’t want her coming in and finding us like this…” I trailed off blushing. I wasn’t a prude, but I also didn’t want to be caught shagging on the library desk by the man’s daughter.</p>
<p>Ezra raised a brow roguishly before pecking me gently on the lips and helping me smooth my skirt back into place so that it fell to just below my knees again. It had been pushed up rather high in our, well, passionate embrace. He did take a moment to give my ass a lovingly squeeze as he helped me down from the desk.</p>
<p>“Well, darling we better find that tome,” he said, giving my mussed appearance an admiring look. “I’ll just have to take care of you later this evening.”</p>
<p>“Ezra!” I whispered indignantly. “How can you say things like that and not expect me to want you right now?!”</p>
<p>He just winked at me in response. Ezra knew exactly what he was doing, the bastard. I loved him.</p>
<p>“What book are we after?” he asked as he absentmindedly tried to smooth his hair back into place. It didn’t do much good. The pomade that had originally kept everything into place was now keeping everything in a chaotic mass of waves and curls that stuck up in wild abandon. The blond patch looked as if a bit of starlight had fallen down and bestowed a blessing upon him. I rather liked that thought, as fanciful as it was, and smiled to myself about it.</p>
<p>“It’s a big volume with photographs of paintings by the early impressionists, Monet, Renoir, Manet, and the like. I don’t remember the title.”</p>
<p>Ezra hummed and looked over the library with a keen eye. If anyone could scry the book’s location within the thousands here, it would be him.</p>
<p>“It should be…” He moved over to one of the far shelves and I followed closely behind him. He ran a finger down the line of book spines until he came to a big black linen bound book. “Right here.”</p>
<p>He pulled the book out and presented it to me with a flourish, a soft look in his eyes.</p>
<p>“Always happy to oblige, my dearest Dovey.”</p>
<p>I could not help grasping the book between my hands, trapping Ezra’s hand underneath mine, and pulling him closer so I could kiss him again. My eyes closed at the feel of his lips as he hummed with approval, the sound traveling right down to my stomach.</p>
<p>We broke apart guiltily when we heard someone clear their throat at the doorway of the library. Neither of us had heard the door open.</p>
<p>“Took you both long enough,” Cee said. Her hands were set on her hips and she was rolling her eyes at the two of us.</p>
<p>The picture we must have been. I, with my wrinkled clothes and having lost all the pins keeping my coifed hair in-place. While Ezra… well, Ezra didn’t even have his damn shoes on. He was still walking around in just his argyle socks, suspenders, shirtsleeves and trousers. I started giggling so hard I had to sit down on the floor. It must have been infectious for Ezra plunked down right beside me, also roaring with mirth.</p>
<p>Cee had a slight look of disdainful disgust on her face as she stood in the doorway as if we were idiots, which only made Ezra and I laugh harder. Perhaps we were, but at least we could be idiots together.</p>
<p>“When you two are done, I’ll be setting up the oil paints in the conservatory. Pa, I do believe your one shoe is on top of the bookcase by the window if you’re looking for it.” Cee called out over her shoulder as she left us.</p>
<p>As we both calmed our laughter and caught our breaths, I started to get up to follow her to the conservatory. Ezra’s hand gently caught my wrist stopping me from leaving the carpet just yet. He pulled me in close to him again, his gaze soft and his thumb drawing small circles on the soft skin of the inside of my wrist.</p>
<p>“How many times will I have to ask you to come back to me as soon as possible, Dovey?” Ezra asked, a grin on his face.</p>
<p>“At least once more, Mr. Carstone,” I said with a wicked smirk to match his own. Ezra — my Ezra — growled and proceeded to kiss me senseless. Cee might have to wait to paint the water lilies just a little longer.</p>
<p>~*~*~</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another hat off to my beta reader @princessbatears, she is a darling who puts up with so much flailing on my part. I appreciate your editing skills lady! &lt;3 </p>
<p>Author’s Note: I will completely admit that the scene with Mr. Knightley in the throws of passion over Emma in Autumn de Wilde’s Emma was a huge inspiration for the Library scene in the setup.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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